


Bad Ending

by Rawrsuzie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bad Ending, Established Relationship, FHQ, Final Battle, Final Goodbyes, Final Haikyuu Quest, Last Kiss, M/M, the aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 15:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10879272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rawrsuzie/pseuds/Rawrsuzie
Summary: A king's final words to his most trust worthy knight.A lover's last kiss to his most important person.





	Bad Ending

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Haven't written for this account forever. Have some sads.

The broken castle walls that surrounded them was the first indications that victory was theirs.

Watching the magic that once held the place together no longer weave its way through the intimidating structure, trills of lingering enchantment curling its way out of the stone palace and evaporating into the thin air with a light hiss was a true sign that the battle had been won. It all crumbles away until the five of them remain in nothing more than the leftover frameworks, the sun finally getting to shine through and beam down across them—a sign of a good omen as most would say.

Though, it’s not what any of them turn their eyes to, no, not when the lingering form of the Demon King still stands almost formidably in their sights, even when he no longer held an ounce of magic to throw at them. It was a testament to his incredible power that he could remain so daunting, even with his wounded body and lack of enchantments, magic wisping away across him just as it did in the surrounding ruins.

Blood trickles its way down into one of his eyes, making sight out of it almost impossible, and an arm holds itself across a gaping wound in his stomach—courtesy of a final thrust made by a fearless knight, a man who prayed for nothing but that this nightmare finally end—and yet the evil king still remains as regal as ever, looking down at the five heroes with a sort of fondness that completely deterred his normal, wicked behavior.

“Victory seems to be yours this day, I honestly cannot even act surprised with as many premonitions I received in light of this day. My only regret is that I remained long enough to perish in this accursed body…I suppose you may have your king back now that his soul is no longer mine…”

The demon’s words cause a confusion between the party and it isn’t until they see the scene after that all of them finally understand.

The Demon King’s presence fades to a familiar face that has the party of heroes gaping in absolute shock. His light brown pants and blue tunic are reveled under the blackness that was once a cloak, while long, knee-high boots are replaced with a normal brown pair. The horns atop his head burn away with a sizzle, replaced by a thin, lightly ornamented crown for a man that found no value in trying to flaunt his fortune.

Revealed to them is their bright and beloved king; a man of whom all had believe fell in to an eternal pit of darkness.

The collective gasps between the five of them echoes loudly even in the openness that now was the throne room and the sight of their king, standing at the top of his throne, sun bearing down on him and twinkling brilliantly across the circlet nestled in wavy curls of soft brown hair almost seems like a gift from the angels—a kingdom that had ones lost their precious king had received him once more.

Except after a few seconds, the wounds that had once decorated the evil demon now bleed across their own king, a dark, sickly red staining his immaculate clothing and seeping down his head into his left eye, causing blindness once more. The one eye that can still be opened does after a few belated moments and the king looks down at the heroes with double the fondness the Demon King had looked upon them with.

“…Thank…you…” Comes his scratchy response, sounding more like gravel on a road than an actual human voice.

But the more alarming thing was the sudden driblets of blood that leaks out past both sides of his lips.

There isn’t even some sort of indication, not a stumble or a waver in stance, when the king’s body pitches forward and meets solidly with the ground below him, stirring up a pile of dust around him as he drops with a dull thud. The sight of it manages to get several cries of terror out of the young heroes, one of which is especially shaken by the sight of his fallen king.

The drop of a heavy sword rings out through the remains of the castle and all eyes are on one spiky-headed figure as he hurls himself up towards the battered body in front of him.

“My King!” He cries as he reaches for the bleeding form, turning it with as much care as he can muster as he scoops heavy limps into his arms and across his lap, nestling the person closely in his arms in a hug of sorts.

“My King…” He repeats—hoping, praying those vibrant, chocolate eyes would open once more, that he hadn’t lost this important person once again.

It takes a few seconds, enough that the knight starts to lose hope, until he sees one of his not covered eyes roll open, blinking heavily at the brightness of the sun until it finally comes into focus, looking up at the man holding him with a haziness that makes the knight’s stomach clench in concern.

The King doesn’t seem to realize or care that his eyes have dulled considerable, more than likely due the loss in blood. He reaches up with a shaky hand and cups the cheek of the man above him, looking nothing less than grateful towards him.

“My knight…” He starts, voice scarily weak and still rough, but does nothing stop him from saying his piece, “my brave and fearless knight…you have done your king so proudly with your efforts…”

There is a cough and a slight splatter of blood that has the knight reeling in absolute terror. “Stop talking,” he begs, “let me get you somewhere you can be cared for and then you can praise me all you want, your majesty.”

The shake of his head makes something fowl pit within the swordsman’s stomach and it makes him even more desperate, reaching to squeeze the hand still cradling his cheek, gripping it firmly as if to say, _I’m not giving up on you just yet._

He’s pretty sure his king understands it too if his weak chuckle were anything to go by, he still shakes his head though and looks up at him with an eye that begs for him to listen. “I don’t have any more fight in me…I’ve been fighting that bastardly demon for so long, I’m afraid I don’t have much energy left…the nearest town would be too far for me, even on horseback.”

“We have a healer!” The knight protests, “He could keep you alive until then!”

Another shake of his head, “You depleted all of your rations in that last battle and it would take too long to search for more. I would prefer you just stay here with me instead.”

The knight can feel his own body start to tremble, that fowl pit moving from the inside of his stomach into his chest and making it burn with a feeling he didn’t quite comprehend. He squeezes again to the hand held securely in his own, a sudden wave of anger bursting from within him. “You expect me to just sit here and watch you _die?!”_

An almost sad smile spreads across the king’s features. “A tad selfish of me, huh? Making my only friend suffer through this…”

There is a coldness to his touch that hadn’t been there moments before and the knight can feel his own clothes becoming sodden with a wetness that definitely wasn’t his. It makes him curl even tighter in on the feeble body in his grasps. “…The selfish one…is me your Majesty, for not being able to let you leave me a second time…”

His voice is hoarse with unshed tears as he stares across the still regal appearance of his king. Even in his most weaken state, he still managed to look every bit as enchanting and kingly as he had in his reign.

“You are such a strong person, my knight. The truest warrior the worlds have ever been gifted with, I know beyond any doubts that you will continue to take care of the people of this realm.”

The statement catches the knight slightly off-guard and he can’t help but stare at his king in wonder as he continues speaking. “I know it goes against your training, but I’ve never understood why you knight lot were never permitted to cry. Weeping does the body some good as long as you don’t wallow in it, don’t you agree Sir Knight?”

His throat clogs at the words, know the insinuation and of what his king is asking him without him having to say it.

_I know it will hurt, but please continue to take care of my people._

It’s a mighty request, not one he thinks he—he who could not even protect his most important person from the darkness that possessed him, couldn’t even save him now when he finally had him back in his arms—is worthy of handling.

_What kind of Knight am I?_

“The _best_ kind.” His king murmurs bellow him, as if reading his mind and using the last of his strength to pull himself up and pull him into a tight hold, arms threading around his neck as the swordsman’s own looped around his back. “The strong kind, the compassionate kind—the only knight I’ve wanted at my side for all of these years…”

The King gives him a weak squeeze. “Don’t doubt your strength now, not when you and your party just saved the entire realm. Rejoice in this freedom from darkness…and help mend this broken kingdom into what it was during our glory days. This is only a task I trust to you, my most dependable knight.”

A couple of heavy coughs wreak the king’s frail form, enough that he has to drop back into his knight’s sturdy arms, too weak to hold himself up any longer. Fear starts to course through him at the sight of his majesty’s opened eye starting to grow heavy as he blinked, like it was almost a chore to keep it that way.

“My strong knight…” He mumbles almost incoherently, “My Hajime…”

Tears streak their way down tanned cheeks and it’s with one last ditched effort that Hajime begs with a small, scared voice, “Please don’t leave me, _Tooru_!”

Tears brim within Tooru’s own eyes and it’s by some miracle he’s able to reach up and pull the spiky-haired man down to him, long enough to give him a small, lingering kiss.

“M’sorry, my love…may we meet again…in another…lifetime…” Tooru whispers with his very last breath, eye slowly slipping closed and body turning limp in Hajime’s hold.

Hajime’s eyes widen as he hastily reaches for his hand, a litany of _no_ falling from his lips as he tries to shake the motionless man in his arms, “No, _please no._ Tooru, no—please, please come back, please don’t go. _My life is meaningless without you!”_

His pained voice rings out in the silence that has become their surrounding as he desperately tries to cradle him closer—to share his warmth, share his liveliness, _anything_ that would bring back his very first and closest friend.

Hajime chokes on a cry and then another until he is full on sobbing into the other man’s chest, to hide his eyes from the sight of the life draining from the only person he ever wished to spend the rest of his life with.

.

.

.

[ _Bad Ending_ ]

[ _Would you like to replay your journey?_ ]

=>[ _Yes_ ]  [ _No_ ]


End file.
